The mayor swallowed a groan.
He’d waited long enough. It was time.
She was finally ready to take the next step in her life—he sensed that, now. And if he had anything to say about it, that next step was going to be with him. He was the most powerful man on the island—what woman didn’t want a powerful man hovering above her in bed?
Just then Lana glanced up from her notepad, meeting his gaze with a breathtaking smile.
Yes, it was definitely time to make his move. And he knew just what to do…
Eyeing her watch, Lana sat in a booth at the local diner, drawing the smell of grease and fresh-baked apple pie into her lungs while eagerly awaiting the arrival of her lunch date.
“Sorry I’m late”, Kendall explained as she slid into the seat across from Lana. “Chatty Debbie dropped by to pick up her prescription and somehow managed to steer the topic to waxing.”
“Waxing? You mean, like hair—”
Kendall thrust her palm forward. “Trust me—you don’t even want to know.”
Lana laughed despite her best effort not to; she could only imagine how graphic and uncomfortable that conversation was. The woman was an open book, if you will—not the least bit concerned about airing personal subject matter to anyone within earshot.
“You order yet?”
“Yeah, told the waitress you were joining me; she went ahead and put your order in, too. Wasn’t sure how late you’d be and I still have a ton of transcribing left from the city commission meeting the other night.”
“I’m sorry”, Kendall uttered genuinely. “If I’d known you were so busy, I wouldn’t have asked you to lunch today.”
Lana swept her hand in the air, waiving the suggestion aside. “It’s fine, really. After spending most of the morning staring at my monitor, I kind of needed the break.” Reaching for the glass of sweet tea to her left, she asked, “How’ve you been?”
“Well, it’s allergy season. So the pharmacy’s been a busy place this month.”
“And Tenley?”
Kendall beamed at the mention of her daughter. “Rollin’ all over the place—which is driving Ty bonkers. She rolls off the area rug and you’d think she was jumpin’ off the roof the way he swoops down to rescue her!”
Laughing, Lana placed her tea on the table in front of her. “You have to admit, Kendall: that’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah”, she uttered wistfully, “I guess it sort of is.” Kendall peered into space for a few long beats before emerging from her sappy trance. “All right, I have a confession.”
“Okaaay”, she drawled.
“Aside from the fact that we haven’t had an opportunity to catch up in a few weeks, I had another motive for asking you to lunch today.”
“Oh?” Reaching for her glass again, she took another sip.
Kendall nodded. “It’s about Randall, actually. Have you noticed he’s been acting sort of strange lately?”
Caught by surprise, Lana coughed, choking on her sweet tea. Pounding her fist against her chest, she regained her composure. “Strange? How do you mean?”
“I don’t know—like he’s hiding something, I guess. Remember last month when he sliced his shoulder open?” Lana nodded feebly. “Well, when I cleaned the wound I got this… weird vibe”, Kendall shared, tucking a strand of inky-black hair behind her ear. “I asked him what was goin’ on, but the only thing I managed to drag out of him was ‘just stuff.’ ”
Moving her hands under the table, Lana began picking the coral polish from her thumb nails. “Maybe he’s still not over you, Ken. I’m sure the idea of you and Ty still bothers him a little.”
“That’s what I thought at first, too. But my gut says differently…” Kendall placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her fists. “You see him a lot these days. Does he seem different to you?”
Swallowing hard, she glanced down at her pitiful-looking manicure, scrambling to find her voice. Because she knew Randall’s secret: it was the same one she’d been carrying around for the last month, as well. “Um, what do you mean?”
Kendall shrugged. “I don’t know… Is he seeing anyone?”
“Wh-what makes you say that?”
The waitress chose that particular moment to approach the table, thank goodness, balancing their meals on a large circular tray. In a frenzy to accommodate the growing lunch crowd, she quickly lobbed their plates down on the table, then stole the ketchup from the small table behind them, striking the butt of the glass bottle against the tabletop with a thunderous whack. “Sorry”, she mouthed silently before dashing across the room to take care of another customer.
“Poor thing” Lana murmured. “Looks like she doesn’t have any help at all today.”
“We’ll leave her a good tip, then.” Kendall assured her. After removing the lid from the ketchup bottle she gave it a few good shakes. “So, back to our conversation…”
Crud. She’d sort of hoped the perfectly-timed interruption moments ago, coupled with the aroma of Kendall’s favorite meal, had short-circuited her good friend’s brain, giving Lana an out. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “What were we talkin’ about again?” Because if she couldn’t dodge the subject completely, she could at least buy herself a moment or two to prep.
“Randall.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
“Has he confided in you about what’s goin’ on in his life?”
You drive me crazy, Lana. I want to do things to you. Dirty things…
“Um, yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Kendall gently set the ketchup bottle on the table. Folding her hands in her lap, she gave a weak smile. “Good. I’m… I’m glad he’s talking to you. I was really worried he was keeping it all in.”
Lana didn’t miss the hurt in Kendall’s eyes: Randall hadn’t come to her. The dynamic of their friendship had changed. And whether the alterations were permanent or temporary, the effect it had on Kendall was just the same. “Look, Kendall—”
“It’s okay. I knew the choices I made last year were going to affect our friendship… I miss him—I really do—but if I had to do it all over again, I’d have done the exact same thing. Even knowing how much I hurt him, I would.” Kendall winced. “Gosh, that came out completely wrong—I sound like a cold-hearted bitch!”
“No, you don’t”, Lana countered as she stabbed a lettuce leaf with her fork. “You sound like a woman confident about the choices you made. And judging by how deliriously happy both you and Ty are, I’d say it was the right one.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. It’s just… I want Randall to find what I have with Ty, you know? I want him to find the woman he’s meant to be with.” Kendall dipped an onion ring in ketchup, then popped it in her mouth. “I won’t ask you to repeat what he shared with you, but can I ask you something else?”
Oh, God. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you think he’s close to finding her?”
A jolt of something that felt an awful lot like jealousy knocked against the inside of Lana’s chest. Because the mere thought of Randall doing dirty things to another woman didn’t sit right with her. “I don’t know, Ken. I’d like to think he is. I really would…”
A low rumble unfurled from Lana’s stomach as she situated herself in front of her computer just after lunch. She’d only managed to eat a few slivers of iceberg lettuce from her Cobb salad before her stomach protested. Funny how uncomfortable conversation could do that to a person: utterly suppress their ravenous appetite. And the subject matter over lunch with Kendall had managed to do just that.
And now she was paying the price, because her stomach was practically gnawing on her backbone. Thankfully she’d had enough sense to ask for a to-go container; she’d transcribe for a bit then take an early break, maybe even sit outside in the small courtyard for some fresh air. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.
But it was incredibly hard to concentrate on her unfinished tasks when her mind kept drifting to Randall.
/> It’d been a month since he’d stripped her down to her bra and cowgirl boots in his hallway, twenty-seven days, to be exact, since he’d pressed her back against his mattress. And after Connor had nearly walked in on them several days after that, they’d agreed to err on the side of caution.
And it was killing her.
Oh, they still managed to steal a kiss here and there; “accidently” brush against the other in passing. Quite frankly, the last twenty-seven days could be summed up as one very long bout of foreplay.
But their dry spell would end this weekend when her parents took Connor for the night.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t having doubts. Last time had been… well, phenomenal, but it’d also been entirely spontaneous. The only mission she’d had upon arriving at his place that night was to coerce him in to telling her why he’d barreled out of The Saloon without so much as a goodbye.
He’d told her, all right—right before he’d claimed her mouth and backed her into the hall.
Lana shivered at the memory.
This time she knew what she was getting into, and as exciting as that notion was, she was sort of nervous about doing it again. Her anxiety had absolutely nothing to do with Randall—at least, not directly.
Make no mistake: she wanted him. The desire she harbored for Randall Burns was deep. Bone-deep. So imbedded in her body she feared she’d never rid herself of the overwhelming need his touch inspired.
So what was causing this sudden bout of hesitation, one might ask?
Simple: Jimmy.
She’d already betrayed him once. Could she do it a second time? A third? A fourth?
It’s been nearly a year, Lana. It’s not like you jumped in the sac with the guy immediately; wasn’t as if you didn’t spend countless nights awake trying to refute your attraction to his best friend.
Placing the small headphones attached to the voice recorder over her ears, she pushed the worry aside and opened the Word document she’d saved just before lunch. Her stomach read her the riot act again at the mere thought of food, groaning its disapproval over her decision to return to work.
Her finger hovered over the PLAY button on the recorder when Mayor Cliffburg’s deep voice wafted from his open door. “Lana, can I see you in my office for a minute?”
“Be right there, sir”, she called out. Quickly removing her headphones, she pushed to her feet, stepping into the mayor’s office with a cautious gait.
“Close the door and have a seat”, he requested, poring over a pile of papers scattered about on his desk.
Picking at her nail polish—or rather, what was left of it—Lana nudged the door closed and slowly lowered her rear end into one of the burgundy winged-back chairs in front of his desk. Suddenly feeling as though she needed to explain why she was behind on loading Tuesday night’s meeting minutes to the town website, she cleared her throat and lunged into an explanation. “If this is about the website, I can assure you everything will be uploaded by the time I leave today. There was just so much discussed at the meeting, I—”
The mayor placed his pen on his desk and leaned back in his chair. With his elbows resting comfortably on the arm rests, he tented his fingertips into a point just below his chin. “Good to know. But that’s not why I asked you in here.”
“Oh.”
“I actually had an idea I wanted to run by you. I want your opinion.”
“My opinion?” She questioned dubiously, slapping her palm against her chest. The mayor nodded. “I’m not sure if I’m qualified enough to—”
“I have a proposition.”
“What kind of proposition?” She uttered, baffled.
The mayor studied her for a moment, his eyes softening. “I’ve been thinking… Memorial Day’s coming up in a few weeks.”
Lana fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t need Mayor Cliffburg to remind her of that; the holiday didn’t mean the same thing to her anymore. Memorial Day wasn’t an excuse to stay home from work and barbeque like it’d been in years’ past. Its significance was personal, now. Tragically personal.
“Like I said—I’ve been thinking, and I’d really like to start a new tradition this year; get the entire town involved. How would you feel about conducting a charity event following the boat parade in Jimmy’s honor?
“We could do a silent auction, have residents and businesses on the island donate various items for the cause, and the proceeds would benefit the Public Service Society—which, as you already know, lends support to injured public service workers and their families.”
Lana sat motionless—speechless—as the clock on the mayor’s desk ticked-off the seconds.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
What did she think? Well, Jimmy was a simple man. A modest man. His motivation for doing good deeds had zero to do with notoriety. A fundraiser in his honor was probably the last thing he’d want, but…
But she believed in the charity’s mission, knew firsthand the kind of good the organization was capable of. “I-I don’t know what to say… I’d…” Lana glanced at her lap while she found her voice, finally settling her gaze back on the Mayor. “I’d appreciate that. Very much.”
Mayor Cliffburg smiled. “Then it’s settled: The island’s first annual Jimmy Phillips, Jr. Charity Silent Auction.” Shifting his weight forward, he braced his forearms on the desktop. “With that established, we need to focus our attention on planning the event. Maybe you could load something on the website, advertising the affair.”
“Of course—no problem—”
“And we need to hit the pavement, requesting donations from local businesses and residents.”
“Consider it done.”
“This is going to take some time to organize. You think you can make yourself available after regular office hours for the next few weeks?”
Lana nudged a strand of hair that’d fallen in her field of vision. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I can make this happen—I want to make this happen.”
“I have faith in you, Lana. You never cease to amaze me.”
Chapter 21
A cool, sharp breeze swept over the boardwalk as the sun slumped below the horizon. Seagulls squawked overhead searching for an easy meal, no doubt, and the occasional pelican observed the growing crowd, perched on wood pillars along the pier railing. Randall drew the crisp salty air into his lungs as the soles of his shoes knocked against the wood.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
His shift had ended roughly half an hour ago. He’d quickly gone home to shower before falling into his Saturday night ritual. The promise of two dollar domestic drafts at The Saloon beckoned him week after week without fail. Exercising his skills on the billiard table, sipping cold frothy beer from a frosted mug, fraternizing with the guys, had lured him to the smoke-filled bar once again. But for the first time in recent memory he wasn’t the least bit thrilled about being here.
Shoving the heavy wood door aside Randall slipped into the dim lounge, weaving through the growing crowd toward the billiard area at the back of the establishment. Beams of colored light highlighted the smoky haze on the dance floor, flickering in time with the beat of Jason Aldean’s Dirt Road Anthem. The dance floor was swarming with people—mostly women—yet through the congestion of swaying bodies it’d still only taken mere seconds to zero in on Lana.
Vivid hues of pink and blue light flashed across her silken skin. Long brown hair fell around her pretty face in soft waves, his fingers practically twitching at the thought of running them through it. Arms in the air, her hips moved with the kind of fluidity that made a man take notice. Visions of Lana straddling his lap while rolling those flexible hips over his cock crept into his mind…
And that’s when he suddenly became aware that his feet were no longer in motion. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there enjoying the show, how long he’d been practically drooling at the sight of her, but he did know for certain he’d draw unwanted attention to his involuntary reaction if he didn
’t get moving again.
Tearing his eyes away from the sweet spectacle, he willed his feet to move toward the pool table in the back corner where Grant already awaited him.
“What took you so long, Burns?” Granted greeted, slapping his palm against Randall’s before pulling him in for a shoulder bump. “Thought you were gonna stand me up.”
“Stopped at home to take a shower.”
“You got a hot date or somethin’?”
Randall snatched a cue stick from the wall display, then sidled up to the pool table. “A date with a cue stick and a boat-load of beer.”
Grant chuckled. “Easy there, buddy—wouldn’t want anyone to accuse you of moving too fast on the first date.”
Randall’s gaze averted to the brunette leaving the dance floor, heading his way. Those deep-blue eyes locked onto his, the hint of a smile playing across her soft pink lips.
“Hard to go slow when something tastes so good.” And Randall should know—because the anticipation of tasting Lana again tonight after a month of slow torture was wreaking havoc on his head. Both of them.
“Womack”, Lana called out over the music. “Where’s your wife? She was supposed to be here almost an hour ago.”
Grant smiled, shaking his head. “I talked to her earlier this afternoon. She said she was headed to Ty’s to work in the dark room for a bit.” Swallowing a mouthful of beer, he set his mug on a nearby high-bar table, freeing his hands so he could begin racking the billiard balls. “I swear the woman loses all sense of time when she’s in there. You want me to give her a call?”
Lana waived the offer aside. “She probably got caught up playing with Tenley and talkin’ to Kendall.”
Randall braced the edge of the pool table with his hands, digging his fingers into the green felt to keep from reaching for her—his grip so tight the skin covering his knuckles paled. Across the crowded room she’d been gorgeous, but up close she was damn near irresistible.
His grip tightened when she turned to him and smiled—not an I’m-trying-to-be-polite kind of smile, but rather I’m-secretly-picturing-all-the-naughty-things-I’m-going-to-do-to-you-later-tonight kind of smile. Randall swallowed a groan. Fuck, how the hell was he going to make it the next few hours without touching her?
Rescue Me (Butler Island) Page 16